You're Wrong
by 1963MercuryComet
Summary: Takes place at the end of season 5 (Lucas and Lindsey did end up getting married). Peyton Sawyer was tired of people saying she had come back to Tree Hill for Lucas Scott, because they were completely wrong. When the one person who believed her begins to think what others think, Peyton snaps. Rated M for possible future content.
1. Chapter 1

**I know I haven't updated my other story, but I've been addicted to some other shows right now. I got the idea for this story while laying in bed the other night and I needed to write it down. Sorry if it's not my best writing, it was a little bit rushed. Leave reviews and I'll probably post another chapter soon.**

* * *

It was the only thing they ever thought of her. Most of the people in Tree Hill thought Peyton Sawyer had returned to the small town for Lucas, because she loved him. And Peyton hated that because it was completely untrue. The only person who had ever been the slightest bit understanding was her best friend and roommate Brooke Davis, and she was the only person Peyton bothered talking to. No matter how many times she told people she did NOT love Lucas and was back in Tree Hill for herself, they wouldn't believe her.

And boy, was Peyton tired of it. Even if he was the reason she had returned, she had no chance. Lucas was married now, and by the things Brooke would tell her, he was happier than ever.

* * *

She hadn't left the house in weeks. All she liked to do anymore was sit home and draw or listen to music. Her friends would go out weekly to Tric to spend time together but she never went, though Brooke did. This night in particular, they were out celebrating Lindsey's pregnancy. Peyton was sitting in her room, music playing loudly as she drew. She was so focused on drawing that she didn't notice Brook was in the room until she turned the music off.

"At least come tonight, Peyton. Everyone's going to be there and if you show up maybe they'll start believing that you're really not after him."  
Peyton rolled her eyes, "I'm not going to go so that I can prove myself to them. I'm not going anywhere with any of them until they really believe I'm not."  
"It's one night! All you do is sit in here and feel sorry for yourself and that's not the answer to your problems."  
"The only 'problems' I have involve my friends not listening to me when I say I'm not in love with Lucas. And if going out and pretending to have fun with a bunch of two-faced people is going to prove them wrong I'd rather let them think what they want."  
"You know," Brooke let out a sigh as she lifted her legs and put her black high heels on "I'm really starting to believe them."  
"Brooke, you're not serious."  
"No, I am. Ever since they got married you've isolated angry. If that isn't a red flag that you have feelings for him, you clearly love Lindsey."  
"I only went out before the wedding to try to prove to everyone that they were wrong but when it didn't work I gave up. So go, Brooke. Go spend time with the people who hate me!"  
Brooke stomped out of Peyton's room and grabbed her keys and her purse off the kitchen counter. "You're such a selfish bitch, Peyton!" Her words echoed in the house and Peyton's head after she slammed the front door shut.

Peyton had been sketching her usual cartoons, but this one was centered around Brooke's words. She wiped her tears as she carefully made the marks on the paper with her pencil. She had finished the sketch when her cell phone rang. It was Lucas, clearly drunk. He was in the bathroom at Tric, rambling on about how Peyton needed to stop what she was doing and that she was never going to win him over, because she's not good enough for him at this point. She hung up the phone before he finished and went to the bathroom.

She stood before the mirror, staring at herself with red puffy eyes and messy hair. Her big sweater was falling off of her right shoulder as she rolled the sleeves up and looked at her wrists. The last time she promised she'd never do it again. But she was being eaten alive by her sorrows. She opened the medicine cabinet and took out her prescribed antidepressants and popped the cap off. One fell into the palm of her hand, then three, then the bottle was empty. She downed them all with a glass of water and quickly stumbled to her room. On the back of the sketch she wrote a quick letter before her hand couldn't write anymore. Her eyelids were heavy and once they were shut, she fell limp and off of the bed.

* * *

Brooke Davis was angry, and a bit drunk. She sped home, thinking of the things she could say to Peyton. Should she say how much fun she had or that their friends were asking about her? She'd decide depending on Peyton's mood. She clumsily walked into the house, her purse in one hand and her shoes in the other. She was drunkenly ranting to Peyton as she walked through their house, and once she got to Peyton's room she dropped her shoes, and her purse. Not to mention she sobered up real quick.


	2. Chapter 2

**I may or may not have the next 3 chapters written, oh well. This one's really short but it's really important. Also, chapter 3 will probably be posted right after...and maybe the next few chapters. I JUST REALLY LIKE THIS STORY OKAY**

* * *

The brunette sat on the empty side of the queen sized bed as Peyton slept on the other side. In her hand, she had the sketch Peyton was working on. She read the sloppy hand-written note on the back over and over while admiring the drawing of her calling her best friend a selfish bitch. She jumped at the sound of Peyton's voice and turned to see her sitting up, staring right at her.

"You're okay," Brooke smiled weakly, "Peyton, I'm sorry."  
Peyton rubbed her eyes and swallowed hard, "why...why would you help me?"  
"Are you crazy? Why wouldn't I?" She glanced back down at the note, "do you mean all of this?"  
The blonde shrugged.  
"Is this why you've been so distant?"  
She nodded.  
"Why don't you get back to sleep. We can talk more later."

Brooke stormed into the Scott household and straight to the broody man himself. He could see the fury in her eyes, and he could hear it in her stomp. He sat up in bed, Lindsey too.

"How dare you, Lucas? Telling Peyton she's not good enough for you? You've got it wrong, you are not even 'okay' enough for her. She doesn't love you, and I know that for a fact."  
"Whoa," his deep raspy voice began, "where is all of this coming from, Brooke?"  
"Something happened with Peyton last night. Everyone telling her that she's lying when she says she didn't come back for you is eating her alive! You have no right to tell her things like that. And you know what else, Luke? You have no right to even speak to her again!"  
"Is she okay?" Lindsey butted in.  
"Like you really care." Brooke paused for a moment, realising Lindsey probably did care-she was always the first to ask about Peyton. "She's okay, for now."  
Lindsey stood from the bed and directed Brooke outside through the door in Lucas' bedroom.

"Brooke, he really didn't mean it. He was drunk and angry."  
"I know...she just really took a lot of things to heart last night..."  
Lindsey crossed her arms as the morning breeze rolled through, "she didn't try to-"  
"She did."  
"But she's okay now?"  
Brooke nodded, "I'm scared with her being home alone right now, as bad as that sounds."  
"Well you go. I won't tell anyone."  
"Thanks, Lindsey."

* * *

It was later that evening, and Brooke Davis was drinking a glass of wine in her living room. She was watching TV, but eventually stopped paying attention. She couldn't focus on anything. She needed to talk to Peyton about the note. Believing that she wrote what she wrote because she was intoxicated with pills was hard for Brooke. Peyton knew she was dying and those were her last words.

"Brooke?"  
Her thoughts abruptly stopped and she turned to the blonde. All she wore was her The Cure t-shirt and her hair was tangled as it had been before. "What is it?"  
"You...you said you wanted to talk later...and it's later."  
Brooke set her wine on the coffee table and patted the couch beside her.  
Peyton slowly walked over and sat down.  
"What did you mean in your note. And don't lie to me, because I know it wasn't the pills." She took part of the blanket that was draped over her legs and laid it onto Peyton's legs.  
"You read it, you know what it means."  
"I'm just confused, don't I have the right to be? Peyton...are you really in love with me?"


	3. Chapter 3

**What about that plot twist? I guarantee most of you saw it coming. Anyway, this chapter is short and boring, but hey you have to start somewhere.**

* * *

Peyton shifted in her spot. She had really thought she was going to die that night, she didn't think Brooke would come home so soon.  
"Peyton?"  
"I don't know, Brooke!" Peyton whined.  
Brooke nodded, "alright." She then thought back to the conversation she had with Lindsey this morning and thought it would be a good time to bring it up to shift the conversation. "So I was talking to Lindsey this morning-"  
"You told her?"  
"Only because she went through serious depression after he dad died. She asked about you all of the time, she knows a little bit about what you're going through."  
Peyton lifted the blanket from her knees and stood, quickly walking to her room.  
"Where are you going?"  
"Brooke, she knows nothing about what I'm going through. Nobody knows anything!" She yelled.  
Brooke stood and walked over to the blonde, placing her hand on her shoulders. "Peyton, I can't help you if you don't let me in. Can't we just talk about it, honey?"  
"No!" She jerked away. She walked into her room and slid a pair of skinny jeans onto her thin legs and put her black chucks on. After combing her hair with her fingers she pulled it back into a ponytail and grabbed her keys.  
"Stop it!" Brooke yelled, not moving from her spot as Peyton made her way to the front door.  
"Peyton stop!" And the door slammed shut. She listened as Peyton started her car and sped off, her tires screeching loudly.

* * *

"She said nothing about where she was going?"  
Brooke shook her head. She glanced up at the front door as she tightly hugged the pillow. "I went to Tric 5 times, I called her cell, I went to the cemetary, the Rivercourt-where else would she go, Hales?"  
Haley shrugged, "she just needs space...Brooke what exactly happened?"  
"I can't really say, but it has nothing to do with you-know-who."  
"I just hope she comes home..."  
Brooke hugged the pillow even tighter, "I'll never forgive myself."

* * *

How did Brooke not find her yet? Peyton sat under the bridge as her legs dangled. It was their spot. Why wouldn't Brooke come here first? She said as the tears began flowing down her cheeks quickly, and nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard the sound of a stick snapping behind her.


	4. Chapter 4

"You just have to keep thinking positive. Wherever Peyton is, she's okay." Lucas sat beside his longtime friend Brooke Davis at the bar in Tric as she downed shot after shot.

"Luke, it's nice of you to lie to make me feel better, but it's been a week. It's been a fucking week. Seven fucking days." Brooke picked up the small glass and raised it to her lips, only to be stopped by Lucas.  
"I think it's time I cut you off."  
"What if she did something bad? What if she tried again and succeeded because I didn't chase after her?" At this point, the whole group had known about Peyton's incident since Brooke was always drunk and blabbing about it.  
"Look, she probably just went to see her dad or something. Just think about it, she's probably with him on the beach in the sun, forgetting about her problems here. And when she's ready she'll come back."  
"But what if she doesn't come back?"  
"Then she doesn't come back."

* * *

Is it because they didn't care, or because they cared too much? Peyton had been missing for a week, at least she had counted seven days. She sat in the wooden chair, hands behind her back tied together, and each ankle tied to the front legs of it. The bandanna that was tied around her head and in her mouth was far too tight. It replayed in her head every minute-the minute she was kidnapped.

The sound made Peyton turn, and there he was. The man she thought she had gotten rid of four and a half years ago. Ian Banks. What the hell did he want?  
"Hey, Peyton," he smiled.  
She stood and began walking away. She heard his footsteps behind her, slowly increasing with every step.  
"It's not very nice to run away from me!"  
Before she knew it, he had tackled her to the ground and was now straddling her with her hands held above her head.  
"I know everything. I know you didn't come back to Tree Hill for Lucas-I know you came back for me."

Now here she was. Tied up in this creep's basement with nobody looking for her.

* * *

Three days went by before Brooke decided drinking wasn't going to solve anything, and that something was wrong. She left her house early that morning and drove around town. She sped passed her store, passed Tric. She couldn't even look at the building. On her way home, she drove on the bridge she and Peyton used to sit under when they were younger- The bridge! Brooke pulled over near the wooded area off of the bridge and something caught her eye as it shined in the sun.

It was The Comet. Parked far out of sight in the woods.

She walked quickly through the trees and to the car, and found nothing but CDs and cases scattered around the seats. The worst began to sink in. Why else would Peyton abandon her car by the bridge? Brooke made her way down and under the bridge, cautious not to slip in the mud. She saw Peyton's shoes on the ledge where they sat and sat down beside them. The mud that coated the bottom of them was dry. The brunette stared down into the water as it glistened in the sunlight. Peyton wouldn't jump...would she?

* * *

The police showed up a little while later, and Brooke sat and stared as they searched the premises. An officer stayed to question her about what had happened.  
"So, you said that Peyton attempted to commit suicide a week and a half ago, but why didn't you get help when it happened?"  
"Because all of this happened the night after she did it. Even if I did try to get her help, she would have refused it. She's stubborn."  
The officer scribbled something onto a notepad, "we'll continue searching. I'll get back to you, Ms. Davis."  
"Just...can you please try your best?"  
The man simply nodded before walking away and getting into his car.

* * *

Beads of sweat fell down Peyton's face as her eyes fell shut. They snapped open at the noise of a door closing, which caused her to look around.  
"Good morning, beautiful," Ian smiled. He approached Peyton with a tray, and sat down in a chair beside her with it in his lap. "I made you some breakfast, but since you can't use your hands, I get to feed it to you." First, he removed the bandanna. He scooped some of the creamy substance from the bowl with a spoon and lifted it to Peyton's mouth. "Peyton, open up."

She shut her mouth tightly and refused to part her lips.

Ian took his free hand and grabbed her face tightly, "open your mouth right now." When she still refused he threw the spoon across the room. "You don't want to eat? Then don't eat!" He picked up the tray, and like the spoon he threw it.  
"What the hell do you want with me?" Peyton asked before he tied the bandana back around her head. He tightened the knot and smiled.  
"I just want you." He began walking toward the door of the room, "did you know you're on the news? They've been looking for ya. But I'm going to end all of that-they're going to think you're dead. And you're going to help me."

* * *

**DUN DUN DUN! so how about that? I really didn't intend for it to be Ian behind Peyton, it just kind of happened. The story may still be a little slow, but I can assure you things will get better soon...well I think they will who knows. Thanks for reading! Leave reviews, they really help!**


	5. Chapter 5

Another week and a half had gone by. Brooke sat in her bed, as she now did most days. She had been woken up an hour ago by a phone call from the police, saying they had found a letter from Peyton-a suicide note. Not leaving her bed was the plan for the day...for the week. Brooke just couldn't fathom the idea that Peyton had really gone off to die. All because of her. Her thoughts were halted by a knock at her front door, which she had ignored-it couldn't have been that important after all. The visitor knocked again, this time causing Brooke to stand up and walk to her front door quietly just to see who it was. And it was no surprise when she saw the dirty blonde-haired boy with his wife. Brooke rolled her eyes and quickly fixed her hair with her fingers before pulling the door open.  
"Hey, we heard the news. We wanted to drop by and see how you were doing...and give you these," Lucas held out a bouquet of roses.  
Brooke felt like cringing at how Lucas said "we". She weakly smiled and took the flowers, "thanks..."  
"Brooke, you know if you need anything-even if you need to talk, I'm here for you." Lindsey smiled.  
Brooke nodded, hiding that she was annoyed. "I hate to have you guys leave," she lied, "but I was working on some designs"  
"You're fine." Lucas interrupted. "We'll see you soon alright?"

* * *

Ian walked into the room with a tray as he did daily. He sat in the chair beside Peyton and smiled with the tray in his lap. Peyton eyed the bowl, still not knowing what was in it. But at this point, she was so hungry that she'd eat anything. She watched as the spoon neared her mouth, and clenched her eyes shut as it went into her mouth.  
"Can't I feed myself?" She asked, her face clearly displaying her hatred toward the food.  
"I'm afraid not...you might try to get out. And we can't have that." Ian said, not making eye contact with her. "Besides, I enjoy taking care of you."  
Peyton sighed, "I just want to do things on my own, Ian. I'm perfectly capable of doing so if you'd just untie my hands!"

Ian stood from the chair, "you want to raise your voice at me?" He stared at the girl, waiting for a response. "That's what I thought." Before he sat back down, he smacked Peyton's face with the back of his hand, causing her lip to bleed. "There goes your food for the day."

* * *

Brooke sat at her kitchen counter on a stool, sketching away. She lied before about the designs, but suddenly got the urge to do so. She finished sketching one design and admired her work, before realizing what she had done. She had just drawn an outfit Peyton wore once-it was Brooke's favorite. She had always wished Peyton would wear it again, but she never did.

The paper was quickly crumpled and thrown away as Brooke walked through the kitchen, and stood before the small hallway. She looked into the bathroom, remembering the sight of Peyton on the floor. The brunette then turned her head to the right, and as she peered into Peyton's old bedroom her heart wrenched knowing that the blonde wasn't returning. She slowly walked inside-the room smelled of the perfume Peyton had always worn. She smiled as she walkd further in, seeing the art supplies scattered around the room, the record player that was stopped by Brooke that night. Brooke walked over, and started the record-only to find that Love Song by The Cure played. Tears formed in her eyes as she listened to the lyrics.

_However far away, I will always love you._  
_However long I stay, I will always love you._  
_Whatever words I say, I will always love you._  
_I will always love you._

As the song played on, Brooke realized these lyrics were written on the note Peyton had left that night on the back of her sketch. She stopped the music, as she couldn't take it anymore. She kicked the dresser that the record player was on, then opened the drawers and threw the blonde's clothes all around. All the while, yelling about how stupid Peyton had been.

* * *

Brooke's eyes fluttered open at the sound of her cell phone ringing. She looked around, realizing she was laying on Peyton's bed, and that the room was trashed. She rubbed her eyes as she stood and walked into the kitchen before picking up the phone.

"Hello?" Her tired voice answered.  
"Hello, Ms. Davis? It's detective Morello. I wanted to speak with you about our findings from earlier-but if you're busy we can plan to do so some other time."  
She thought for a moment as she glanced at the clock that hung in her kitchen. Before she could respond, she heard the voice on the other end begin speaking again.  
"I know it's late now, but I'm free to stay if you'd like."  
"I'll be right there."

* * *

**So...yeah...another short and boring chapter...I'M SORRY OKAY! I had the rest typed up in another document saved on my computer, but I guess I forgot to save. At least I updated it. Thanks as usual! **


	6. Update

**Okay guys, sorry for the not-updating thing I've been doing. I had the next chapter typed out on my computer, and when I went to proofread it before posting, it was gone. So after that, I pretty much lost any and all motivation to rewrite it, seeing as it was a rather long chapter. So now you get this, and a promise that I will try my very best to rewrite it and have it posted by June 28th. I didn't realize how many people actually have viewed my story, and those numbers were enough to make me want to get that chapter up as soon as possible. Thanks for your patience! **


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